TWO POEMS 



HENRY RUTGERS CONGER 







PRESENTED BV 



TWO POEMS 



Two Poems 

CLASS DAY POEM 
THE PURPLE HILLS 



By 
HENRY RUTGERS CONGER 



WILLIAMSTOWN, MASSACHUSETTS 

PRINTED FOR THE 

CLASS OF EIGHTEEN NINETY-NINE 

OF 

WILLIAMS COLLEGE 
MCMXXI 



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HENRY RUTGERS CONGER, Poet of 
the Class of Eighteen Ninety-Nine of 
Williams College, died at his home in 
Fanwood, New Jersey, on Friday the eighteenth 
of June, Nineteen Hundred and Twenty, while 
his Class was holding its Reunion in Williams- 
town, Massachusetts, 

These two poems, written by him while 
an undergraduate in Williams College, are now 
printed by his Class as a loving tribute to 
his memory. 



CLASS DAY POEM 



CLASS DAY POEM 
I 

In the hush of the early summery 

^ Neath the smile of the soft June sky. 
We, who have lived together, 

Qather to say good-hy. 
And now, with our labor ended, 

And the hours we may linger few. 
We kneel for our mother^s blessing. 

As is our right to do. 



Page Three 



TWO POEMS 



Stately and tall is our mother^ 

Tender and strong and wise; 
With the light of infinite knowledge 

In the depths of her steadfast eyes. 
And as we kneel before fier, 

Her voice rings clear and sloWy 
As she speaks the words of the blessing 

That she gives to her sons, ere they go. 



Page Four 



CLASS DAY POEM 



II 

"Sons of my four years' nurture, 

Ye who have eaten my bread, 
Pause ere you take the journey 

Down the wide roads ahead! 
Listen! that I may tell you 

In simple speech and plain, 
How from the debt that ye owe me 

Ye may quit yourselves again! 



Page Five 



TWO POEMS 



The wisdom of generations 

I have spread for your delight; 
And the truths that men have died for 

Ye may claim as your simple right. 
Heirs of the hoarding ages, 

How use ye your legacy? 
Masters of many talents 

Render account to me. 



Page Six 



CLASS DAY POEM 



m 

"Are ye puffed with the pride of learning? 

Are ye pleased with the praise of fools? 
Have your minds grown cramped and narrow 

With the lore that ye learned in schools? 
Has your knowledge made you slothful, 

And your culture made you vain, 
That ye think to gain without labor 

What another must toil to gain? 



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TWO POEMS 



Then are your years here wasted 

As pearls that are cast to swine! 
Then are ye servants of servants, 

And no true sons of mine! 
For they who began behind you 

Shall pass you in the race; 
And untaught men shall shame you 

In the open market-place! 



Page Eight 



CLASS DAY POEM 



IV 
"From the quiet heart of the mountains 

Ye must take journey, down 
To the world, that is ever careless 

Of the skirts of a scholar's gown. 
And the sheltered life of college 

Ye must leave behind you then, 
And bear your parts in the battle 

Where men fight hard with men. 



Page Nine 



TWO POEMS 



There there is naught to help you 

But your wit and strength of limb, 
There every man is your master 

Until you have mastered him. 
For a great law governs the fighting 

And all are ruled thereby — 
*He that is strong shall conquer! 

He that is weak must die!* 



Page Ten 



CLASS DAY POEM 



V 

^Therefore, that ye may merit 

Men's praise when your heads are gray, 
Cling to the good ye have gathered 

From my teaching that ends to-day. 
Ye have learned many true sayings 

And many wise maxims heard. 
For some ye know the reason, 

And for some ye must take my word. 



Page Eleven 



TWO POEMS 



But, though ye forget the others, 

These two hold firm and clear: 
The first is — ^He that would win must worky^ 

The second — ^Thou shalt not fear I* 
For the vices of a strong man 

Are pardoned in the end; 
But he that is born a coward 

Hath neither foe nor friend ! 



Page Twelve 



CLASS DAY POEM 



VI 

"Be tender, and quick to pity 

At the sight of another's wrong, 
Humble before a weaker, 

Cringing not to the strong. 
Paying each service twofold, 

Nor counting the debt clear then; 
Keeping your faith with women. 

Speaking the truth to men. 



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TWO POEMS 



VII 

"High in the purple mountains, 

Where the world's strife cannot come, 
Ringed by the iron cordon 

Of the hills that guard my home, 
I gather my sons about me 

And teach them at my knee. 
And when they have learned their lesson, 

My sons go forth from me. 



Page Fourteen 



CLASS DAY POEM 



Over the world they wander, 

In the sunshine and wind and storm, 
But I sit here in the quiet room 

And keep the hearthstone warm; 
Watching and listening and waiting 

For their footsteps at the door, 
Till one by one as the years go by 

My sons come home once more. 



Page Fifteen 



TWO POEMS 



Then I fling wide the portal 

And welcome them to the hall, 
With praise for the strong, and pity 

For the weak, and love for all. 
And the welcome that I give them 

Is reward for those that win; 
And they who are spent with fighting 

Find a new strength therein. 



Page Sixteen 



CLASS DAY POEM 



And when they have told their stories, 

And rested a little space, 
They rise, and get them forth again 

Each man to his own place; 
To take the task that waits him, 

And labor to the end. 
That he may earn a living 

For wife and child and friend. 



Page Seventeen 



TWO POEMS 



Careless of sneers and frowning 
From curs that cringe and shirk, 

Asking no greater pleasure 

Than the sight of his finished work. 



Poge Eighteen 



CLASS DAY POEM 



VIII 

"Ye who to-day must follow 

Whither your fates shall lead, 
These are your elder brothers! 

Prove yourselves of the breed! 
See that ye count as shameful 

No work your hands can do; 
And when ye are spent, come back to me 

That I may comfort you* 



Page "Nineteen 



TWO POEMS 



Now, through the open portal, 

Rise and go forth to-day! 
And a mother's blessing go with you, 

To help you on your way.'* 

Williamstown, June 20, 1899. 



Page Twenty 



THE PURPLE HILLS 



THE PURPLE HILLS 

Air— "Annie Lisle" 

Dying echoes fill the valley, 

Heralding the night, 
As we gather on the campus 

In the waning light. 
In the west the sunset's crimson 

All the heaven fills. 
And its glory rims the edges 

Of our purple hills. 



Page Twenty-three 



TWO POEMS 



Fast the lengthening shadows gather, 

Sunset dims to grey, 
And the calling winds of evening 

Through the branches play. 
With the far stars pale above them 

While day's tumult stills. 
Watching us who know and love them, 

Stand the purple hills. 



Page Twenty-four 



THE PURPLE HILLS 



Safe within our little valley 

From the outer strife, 
Are enshrined the happy memories 

Of our college life. 
And when darker days have found us, 

*Mid this old world's ills; 
Still our hearts will turn with gladness 

To our purple hills. 

Williamstown, 1898. 



Page Twenty-five 



